Transformers 1942
by MisatoKitty
Summary: A slightly different take on Transformers set during World War 2. The great darkness of the old times is coming, and there is yet no one to stand in its way and bring the light forth.
1. Issue 1 Fallen Star

_Relatively standard disclaimer stuff. Existing characters are properties of Hasbro in this situation. While the names might be the same, the characters themselves may not. The story is original, and the setting is mine. Historical figures are used without permission. Contact me at if you have any queries about the story contained herein._

_Please note, this is version 1.3 of this chapter. No text has been changed, however it should now display correctly. Gah. Involved long workarounds by emailing this into work, then using work tools to flatten the HTML to a straight MS-DOS standard file, and then sending it back home to post. But it shows properly now. No more crying, just a real pain in the ---. Chapter 2 is underway. _

**TRANSFORMERS 1942  
Issue 1**

**Fallen Star **

**CYBERTRON**

A planet where machine life grew to dominance instead of organic. A world where only machine life could grow. a giant orb of metal and alloys, encasing vast rifts that extended nearly to the planetary core and vast, towering spires that reached into orbit. A machine world where every cubic metre was given over to factory production or energy storage. Oceans of petrochemicals washed in bizarre tidal formations around the globe, the ripples caused by the six similarly-technological moons in high orbit.

On this strange world, small nanoviruses combine and recombine into more complex forms. Over eons, they shape themselves into simple mechanical devices, which combined with the growing survival urges of the still-growing techviruses, began to find the benefits of co-existence and society.

Eons more pass, and simple mechanical predators stalk those machines less aggressive, and as more time passes, all continue to grow, learn, adapt, change. evolve.

Three billion years have passed before mechanical life achieves sentience. By this time, they are beginning to understand higher concepts - loyalty, culture, entertainment, fiction, advanced mathematics. Over a further billion years, they spread across the planet, finding that they can use their developing technological knowledge to manipulate their mechanical bodies. Who first realised that a body could hold two forms within itself is not recorded, but his idea revolutionised the way these Cybertronians viewed themselves and their planet.

Calling themselves Transformers, they began making tentative steps into the depths of space, first establishing footholds on their moons, then other planets in their star's system, then moving further and further out until they launched themselves deeper into space.

While some races would have gone further to develop an interstellar empire, these Transformers merely wanted to explore and ensure the survival of their race by dissemination of their people. Truly, it was a golden age of peace, prosperity and the advancement of knowledge.

Unless you were one of the Transformers who lived outside the major cities, outside the larger states, or below the surface, closer to the core of the planet. Those who lived in regions where resources were scarce, siphoned off to supply the larger cities, became resentful of those who used their materials. Over millions of years, they found others in their predicament. Talks progressed with the Elders from the cities behind the worst of the resource-stealing. But to no avail. For the large part, the Elders refused to power down their cities, or cut back on resource budgets for research, entertainment, fueling.

And so many of Cybertron's lesser developed states grew to resent and hate the larger city states. Many felt the Elders had grown corrupt, and that the Judicators who enforced their law and the order they stood for were as corrupt as the Elders themselves.

Mostly, though, the Elders were merely blind at what was happening outside their chambers. They were unaware of resource shortfalls in poorer nations - but then, neither did they care enough to check. And the Judicators, who did see, felt that obeying the orders of their superiors who did not understand the crisis as they did was the correct course of action.

Sadly, after millions of years, these disenfranchised Cybertronians branded themselves Decepticons and began a series of terrorist strikes across the planet to chase the others from their ancestral homes. The civilian populace fled wholeheartedly, but the Judicators refused to evacuate and fought to the last mechanoid. Eventually, the planet was divided up roughly evenly between the Decepticons, and the faction that had called itself Autobots. Once the borders were settled, the two races had little to do with one another.

Occasionally, an Autobot would stir trouble with the Decepticons, and sometimes a Decepticon would act in aggression towards Autobots, and the cold war would thaw a little for a thousand years along a single front, then die down again.

And it continued as thus for millions of years.

* * *

Buried deep within the Knowledge Dome in Iacon, a young historian busied himself with filing records recently brought in from the F'tor Cluster. It was a little-explored region of space, and a group of three Autobot cruisers had been attacked just on the other side by a force more powerful than them by far - but thankfully slower. Two ships had been lost in the engagement, but the third had returned, and in the historian's hand was the report contained on a series of teleflimsies. 

A rapid high-pitched sound behind him made him turn around to see who had arrived in his office. She was shorter than he, and more rounded, pink and purple in colour. She had one of her head-dangling dataplugs between two of her fingers and was twirling it idly. "Optimix," Arcee sighed. "You were supposed to meet us eight breems ago," she reminded him, almost scolding.

Optimix stared for a few moments, then shook his head. "I was?"

"Yes, you were," Arcee repeated. "Ratchet has been waiting for four of those breems, and he's only got another half dozen breems before he's off again." "Oh. oh right. I'll just file -" Optimix didn't get the chance to do anything with the teleflimsies in his hand, as Arcee reached up and snatched them away from him.

"No more of that, please," she said, as she started skimming the report. "Hmmm. lost the Abraxas and Xaaron's Pride. bet the Council hates that. view attached report by Repugnus." Arcee tapped the link, and the teleflimsy brought up the stated report. She skimmed that, too, then sighed in disgust as she threw the report onto a nearby cabinet. "You're down here reading second-hand reports when Ratchet's got several of his crewmates with him in Oil Reflections, all of them giving firsthand accounts of how all this went down? You surprise me." Arcee shook her head as Optimix went to say something. "No, you don't surprise me. Not anymore. Why are we still here? Come on, let's go." She grabbed the historian's hand and pulled him from his office.

"This isn't what I should be doing!" he protested in the gravlift. "I'm supposed to be filing those reports and linking them to other exploratory missions in that sector. The Council is deliberating over whether to send a mission in force to the F'tor Cluster, and want all the information on it in hand by-"

"Primus, but you can be boring. Remind me why I hang out with you again?"

"Because I can get you priority access to the central hub, that's why," Optimix reminded her with a grumble.

"Oh yeah, it's convenient, yeah. Forgot that." Arcee flashed Optimix a cheeky grin as the gravlift slowed to a stop. They stepped out into the lounge area of Oil Reflections, a middle-class bar high up in the Knowledge Dome. It was a favoured spot by starship crews, mostly because from this lofty spire, they could see most of the top part of Cybertron - in effect, seeing as much of their homes as they could in the short turnaround time they often had before being shipped out again.

Gathered in a group near one of the full-wall windows were several Autobots Optimix recognised. Ratchet, his friend and mentor; Brawn, a hard-headed dock loader; Ironhide, security chief in the section of the Dome that Optimix worked in; and Prowl, one of the strategic theorists who worked on the floor above Optimix's office, and a former Judicator. Most of them knew Ratchet, and would have gathered here once they knew his ship was back.

In truth, that was one of the main reasons Optimix had tried to avoid this meeting. He liked the others, but he didn't feel comfortable with them. He knew, intellectually, that it was stupid and he should rise above it, but having been programmed as a historian he felt. insecure about his function.

It was stupid. He knew that. So, he tried to rise above his fears.

Ratchet was the first to notice him, hanging back behind Arcee as she skipped across the decking to leap into Brawn's arms with a squealed, "Did you miss me?"

The senior medic nodded at Optimix, and extricated himself from the conversation he was in regarding the effects of rapid application of nucleon on major injuries to step over to the historian. "It is good to see you here, before I ship out again."

"Likewise," Optimix stumbled verbally, "it is good to see you, also."

"How has work been lately?"

"I have been busy these last breems with the reports from the Axalon." Optimix paused, then leaned forward quietly. "Was it as bad as the reports say?"

Ratchet gestured behind them at the mass of crew from the Axalon. "Try and grab some conversation from them: but in short, yes, it was very bad. We don't know who they were or where they came from. But they came hard. Caught us by surprise, and we lost two ships. Gone." For a moment, Optimix heard the bleak tone behind Ratchet's words, but then it was gone, and he was solid again. "But the captain did his job, got us out of there and back to Cybertron with the data. The Council is deliberating on it now."

"I know. That's, uh, why I was late. I should be down there now filing -" Optimix broke off as Ratchet took him by the arm, and led him into conversation.

Eventually, Optimix managed to relax, and enjoyed himself. Still, he felt more towards the back of the group rather than part of it. At one point, he was the centre of attention as Brawn somehow roped him into an impromptu arm-wrestling match. Optimix had done this before, though, and put all his effort into it. Brawn struggled for a half-breem, then slammed Optimix's hand down against the table.

"Better luck nex' time," he grinned at Optimix as he got up from the table, checking for paint scratches and internal injuries. He looked around for Ratchet, and saw the doctor talking to someone bigger than Optimix. He looked fairly brutal, and if it wasn't for the Autobot insignia emblazoned across his golden chest, Optimix would have assumed he was a Decepticon.

"Yoohoo? Optimix?" Arcee's voice brought his attention back to the group. "Treadhead was just asking - is there any truth to the rumours of massive ships being built at Kanex?" There was a twinkle in her optics, and Optimix knew she knew more than he about the ships under construction, but also that she wasn't supposed to know. She was one of the best network saboteurs the Autobots had, but few realised she kept her skills sharp by hacking Autobot networks in her spare time.

"Yes, there's. ships being built there," he confirmed for Treadhead. "Minutes from Council sessions suggest there's a colonisation boom about to be announced."

"That would be awesome to be part of," Treadhead replied wistfully. "Better than being shot at every time we explore a new part of the galaxy."

"Arcee, that Autobot with Ratchet, do you know him?" Optimix asked, forestalling any further questions and comments from Treadhead.

Arcee looked, and shook her head. "No. But I'm not up on everyone."

"That's Grimlock," Brawn offered from behind Optimix as he slammed someone else's arm down on the table. "He leads a security team that comes in through the docks now and then. I'm guessing they're bad flickers, 'cause their shuttles are always badly shot-up."

"Oh." As Optimix spoke, the one called Grimlock turned and stalked off into a gravlift, and Ratchet rejoined the group. "What was all that about?"

Ratchet sighed, looked at the crew of the Abraxas. "Sorry, gentlemen. And ladies," he added, glancing at Headcase and Stormwind, "but I won't be joining you on your next mission." There were a number of cries from the Autobots, calling for him to reconsider. He held up a hand, and they fell silent. "I'm sorry, guys, but orders are orders. I'm supposed to prep one of the Arks for launch."

"One of the ships at the Kanex dockyards?" Treadhead asked.

"Yes, one of those," Ratchet confirmed. "I'm to lead the medical contingent on Ark Secondus."

"Congratulations," Optimix managed before the crew of the Abraxas pushed him aside and demanded to (a) give up the plum new job and come back to their ship, and (b) when that failed, demanded to know who was taking Ratchet's place.

"Optimix!" Ratchet called before he was dragged off. "I've been asked to tell you to report to the Council chambers immediately! I'll be along as soon as I can. But - okay, okay, guys stop it! Fixit! Fixit!" Ratchet was hauled up a gravlift, apparently heading for the docks at the top of the Dome.

Optimix hesitated, and he felt Arcee's hand brush past his. "Do you want moral support for when they yell at you?" she asked.

"Thank you, Arcee, but. no," Optimix replied. He offered his apologies to those who remained, and left for his meeting. He knew it was going to be bad. Something told him it was going to be bad. He hadn't completed that filing, and that would be the whole reason he was being hauled in front of the Council now. He wasn't looking forward to it.

When he arrived at the Council chambers, the guards stepped aside for him, and the twin doors swung open. With a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside the darkened room. The doors shut behind him.

A single spotlight shone down from above into the centre of the room, and Optimix stepped into that. Perhaps a breem passed, in which time Optimix could hear muted conversation from the terraces above him, still cloaked in shadow.

When the lights did come up, Optimix saw there were only a dozen Elders present - not a full Council session, then. That was confusing; if he was to be reprimanded, the whole Council would have been present - failing that, then the members who sat on the Record Access Mainframe committee, and he didn't see half of those members.

"Do you know why you were brought here, researcher?" a single voice asked from above. Optimix didn't see who had spoken at first, but then a small mechanoid stood and started down to the central lectern that overlooked the floor where Optimix stood.

"No, Elder Spanner, I have not been made aware as to why I was asked to come here."

"Hmmph. We have need of you, researcher. I'm sure your friend told you he was to ship out on one of the Arks under construction at Kanex?" Spanner asked once he arrived at the lectern.

"Yes, he did," Optimix confirmed.

"That wasn't all we told him. The ship. also needs a commander."

Optimix paused while he processed that statement. The way it was parsed, it suggested Ratchet could be the commander of the ship. Ratchet, or. "Me, Elder Spanner? But I don't know how to command a ship!" Even to Optimix's audio sensors, that sounded lame. Of course he didn't know, but he could be programmed for it.

"We would not be sending a junior researcher off into the depths of space without backup." A wry smile ghosted across Spanner's face. "We're not that stupid or senile."

"Not yet," a voice from behind Optimix made him start. He turned, and saw Grimlock enter the room, the doors behind him closing silently. "This the mechanoid you entrusting me to? This weakling?"

There was anger in the tones from the tiers above the gallery, Optimix noted. This Grimlock apparently wasn't very popular in these halls. For some reason, that made him feel better about himself.

"Commander Grimlock," Elder Boltax cut through the murmurs and mutters with a voice like a broken circuitboard. "Your presence was not required, nor requested. You were to be seeing to the security contingent onboard Ark Secondus. You have little time to be making your presence known in these halls."

"Pardon me, Elder," Grimlock replied icily, somehow managing without obviously trying to coat the word 'Elder' in thick and contaminated oil. "Command of me and my troops is something I don't give lightly. When I was called for this mission, I reserved the right to have final say on my deployment."

"You -" Elder Boltax started, before Elder Spanner cut him off with a curt hand gesture.

"Grimlock, you would be there for the upgrade ceremony. We thought it best to have you meet then, to avoid any unpleasantness."

"That might be true, and the doc say he's solid, but I don't believe anything without seeing it first." Grimlock turned to Optimix, folded his arms across his broad chest, and stalked around the researcher. Optimix felt intensely scrutinised, internal systems registering broad sensor sweeps as well as the visual inspection, and after a completed circuit, Grimlock gave a muttered, "Huh, she _was_ right," before stepping back from the spotlight. Once outside the cone of light, Optimix could only see him in the visual by the burning blue of his optics. Elder Spanner's voice jerked his attention away again.

"Does he meet your approval, Commander Grimlock?"

There was silence for a few ticks of the Council timepiece, then Grimlock gave a terse, "He fine," before turning and stalking out of the chambers.

"I'm so glad he's gone," Optimix heard Boltax mutter. Someone agreed with him - it sounded like Elder Maximus - but then Elder Spanner was back on track.

"Optimix, you have been selected to command the Ark Secondus. It was due to be the second vessel in our new armada to be launched for a new colonial effort, but there have been... unavoidable circumstances with Ark Primus, and we are having to launch Secondus first. Your name kept rising to the top of our selection lists." Again, Optimix thought he heard Elder Boltax muttering something disparaging, something he'd never heard from a member of the Council in all his vorns, but he thought perhaps he had some unknown system error; he'd have to have it checked when he left the chambers. "You will be given a full systems overhaul and upgrade. Programming on all issues you will experience will be uploaded into your personality matrix. Your new mission will be to oversee the construction efforts of the ship's crew and colonisation component on a planet just over two hundred and seventy one light-breems from this system. Once there, your first priority will be to start construction of an energon-refining facility - probe flybys show the world is rich in petrochemicals, and your ship's store of energon will not last forever. You will have a total complement of just over five thousand Transformers. Of those, approximately one thousand will be Autobots. Another thousand will be Judicators, nominally Autobots themselves in all but name. The rest will be a colonisation force of around three thousand neutral civilians."

"No Decepticons?" Optimix asked.

"No. We have... reason to believe they have begun their own colonisation project," Elder Spanner replied. "Once reformatted, you will be allowed to select your senior crew and fill out any as-yet unfilled positions. The only exceptions to these, as you may be aware, are Commander Grimlock, who will be heading an armed force under your command in case of issues with the civilians or Decepticons, or other hostile forms of life, and Ratchet, who I believe you know - he will be the chief mechangineering officer on the ship." Elder Spanner paused. "Do you understand this?"

"Yes, Elder," Optimix responded with a slight bow of his head. "But... Elder? If I may - why me? Why not someone with colonising or ship command experience?"

"Let us say, Researcher Optimix, that the Matrix has spoken and guided us in our moment of darkness," Elder Spanner returned with a small smile. With that, he gestured to the doors, and Optimix took that to mean the audience was over. As bade, he left the chambers. Not long after, the Elders gathered their belongings, and also left the chambers... all bar Elder Spanner.

Once the door was shut behind him, a figure moved, and stood up.

"Sentinel Prime," Spanner said aloud.

"He is the one," the Prime rumbled. "I can feel it."

"I was not comfortable speaking of the Matrix," Spanner continued. "He, like many of the others, no longer believe in it or our guiding light."

"It is no matter," Prime said, then sagged. A slight figure beside him helped him to stay upright.

"It is not good that you stress yourself," she said quietly. "What is coming will not be easy."

"It is not meant to be," the Prime said, equally as quiet. "I remember my time. Prime Nova said nothing. But you were there for me at the time I needed you. You were -"

"I was your Harbinger," she interrupted. "And I will be his, also."

The Prime shook his head as Spanner joined them on the floor of the gallery. "It is no longer enough. You can feel him grow stronger, as can I. But I suspect only you will face him."

"Are you all right, Prime?" Spanner asked.

Prime shook his two companions off, and pulled himself erect. It took an obvious effort, one which made his companion smile to herself. "I am as ready as I'll ever be," he said, then headed towards the upgrade facililty. Once he arrived, he saw Optimix strapped down to an engineering pod, mechanical arms darting in and out replacing machinery, upgrading strength, endurance, armour, motive capabilities... Sentinel Prime remembered this happening eons ago himself, to himself... but for different reasons. He found himself contemplative, and after a few breems, he realised his companion was with him again. He looked down at her, and she looked up.

"I am standing here, and there is nothing now that is stopping me except this brief... flimsy material of this door. And yet, I have come so far, but cannot take that final step. I am scared," he admitted. She smiled at him, and her hand found his. A brief squeeze, and something in his chest opened and filled him with confidence and power, renewed strength and vigor.

Her hand left his then, and she gestured at the room beyond. "Go," she said, and he stepped into the Light.

* * *

"Where... where am I?" 

"You are in the upgrade core," Ratchet replied, helping his friend into a sitting position. He noted with little surprise that the former researcher was now much larger than himself, and similarly more powerful. "The process has finished."

"F... finished?"

"Yes," Ratchet said, "Now, arise Optimus Major. Your ship and crew await."

Optimus stood, unsteady while his neural processors ran through the systems upgrade list he'd been supplied with internally, and rewrote on the fly how to control his new body. After a few moments, his systems checked out, and he relaxed. Only then did he find something reflective in which to observe his new form.

"I'm... massive," Optimus said, dumbly.

"There is that, yes," Ratchet replied. "Also smarter, stronger, better armed."

"Armed? I was never armed before..." Optimus flexed a massive hand, opening it and closing it into a fist repetitively.

"You _are_ an Autobot," Ratchet reminded him, "and now the commander of a colonisation vessel. Your crew will look to you for guidance and leadership. They will rely on your strength to inspire themselves to excel."

"I... I.. am speechless."

Ratchet guided Optimus towards the doors. "Come; the others want to greet you. And you have to pick your command crew."

"Yes... the Elders said I had to pick my senior staff..." Optimus' voice trailed off and he shook his head. "No, no, no - this isn't right. This - I'm a researcher, a historian! Ratchet -"

His old friend was reassuring, but firm. "Believe me when I say this has been coming for a long time. Believe me when I say you have been watched, waiting for the right opportunity. And that opportunity, that time - is now. You are the correct officer for this job. You are the... the one who was chosen." Ratchet stumbled over the last words, but Optimus didn't catch the hesitation.

"Ratchet..."

"You are going to go out there," Ratchet said, urging his friend towards the door, "and you are going to access your programming upgrades, integrate them into your personality core, and you are going to pick your staff and lead this crew. This is very important, Optimus. This time..." Ratchet's voice trailed off into silence.

"This time?" Optimus queried.

"It is not yet time to talk about such things," Ratchet finished, dimly. "But the time is coming. Soon. For now..."

"I get it, I understand," Optimus sighed, delaying movement long enough to be pushed out the door by his friend.

* * *

**NEWS FEED DIRECT FROM KANEX:**

[ATTACHED IMAGE - ARK SECONDUS SENIOR STAFF file ref666783hfy30111976  
[REPORT GENERATED BY SLAMDANCE  
[REPORTING ASSISTED BY SPINISTER  
[IMAGES GENERATED BY REFLECTOR  
[REPORT ASSOCIATED TO FOLLOWING ARTICLES:  
...MILITARY BUILDUP AT KANEX-SLAMDANCE  
...DECEPTICON VIEWPOINT:NETWORK SUBVERSION-SPINISTER  
...DECEPTICON VIEWPOINT:DEEP SPACE RECON-SPINISTER  
...AUTOBOT COLONIAL ESCALATION-SLAMDANCE

SLAMDANCE: We're live at the Kanex Fleetyards, where the Autobot Council of Elders have unveiled a project so secret, it has been causing controversy over the last eight vorns. It was announced twelve breems ago by Elder Spanner of the Council that the Autobots would be heralding a new age of exploration and colonisation. Such a colonial wave as had been planned has not taken place for at least one hundred thousand vorns.

SPINISTER: The last such "colonial" effort was also generated by the Autobots, early in their evolution, after using the resources previously abundant in the Teramax Canyon and draining the Caspid polar ocean to construct Iacon. The last actual colonisation attempt was the neutral civilian effort to cyberform Paradron. [HISTORY - PARADRON Rumours abound in Decepticon territories that at least one of these Ark vessels will be headed to Paradron to rape the planet of resources.

SLAMDANCE: Elder Spanner reported earlier this breem that the secrecy was being lifted due to wild speculation and an information war being waged by Decepticon sympathisers in the Prion Cluster regarding the Arks being designed as a first-strike weapon.

SPINISTER: The Arks, it should be noted, have a number of weapon systems that, while less in number than a standard warship, are directly tied to the transwarp reactors. The ships themselves, in a staggering waste of resources, contain a large amount of energon. Four main tanks, each capable of fueling the crew for 15,000 breems, are complemented by a series of smaller tanks throughout the ship. The transwarp system itself is designed to allow the vessel to travel 15,000 light breems with a minimal amount of temporal wake. In short, the ship is a stealthy design, able to transwarp from a distance with no advance warning and able to be used as a kinetic bomb, with energon able to cause intense firestorms around any planet.

SLAMDANCE: Despite Decepticon scare-mongering, the crew selected for this mission are anything but warriors. The ship is the second of the production run to be built, but first completed due to construction problems with the flagship, Ark Primus. The commander of Ark Secondus is Optimus Major, newly upgraded from researcher Optimix -

SPINISTER: A likely story - it is well-known among neutral states that Autobot special operations is hidden within the Iacon Knowledge Dome. This "Optimix" is nothing more than a spec-ops agent who's previous function would have included subversive activities in Decepticon territories.

SLAMDANCE: Newly upgraded from historical researcher Optimix from Iacon, and his senior staff. Next to him is the Chief Mechangineer Ratchet, recently returned on the Axalon. Also with them is Chief Tactical Operations Advisor, Prowl. A former Judicator, after the Ibnet invasion -

SPINISTER: The Ibnet reclamation, for those who may not have studied the subject, was the period in which the indiginous Decepticon population was assisted by Decepticons from Polyhex to reclaim the citystate, after continual abuse from Judicators.

SLAMDANCE: It was an invasion. And after this unprovoked invasion, Prowl was reassigned to duties in Ubik, then moved to Iacon to work with other former Judicators on tactical doctrine and theory. Beside him is Bumblebee -

SPINISTER: A known agitator, the instigator of the Polyhex blackout two vorns ago.

SLAMDANCE: Not everyone is a spy, you know. Not everyone on that ship is a spy.

SPINISTER: The Autobot behind Optimus Major is Grimlock, leader of a secretive sect rumoured to be warrior-priests. Grimlock himself has been recorded committing acts of aggression against Decepticons, neutrals, and on occasion, Autobot Elders. First recorded several million vorns ago, Grimlock is thought to have previously been a Decepticon, for the tactical knowledge and martial attitudes he displays.

SLAMDANCE: You mean, he's violent, aggressive, and very violent?

SPINISTER: Exactly.

SLAMDANCE: I give up. I'm asking for another assignment. I can't take this anymore.

SPINISTER: Coming up after this public service announcement for the Autobot territories of Iacon, Ubik and Polm, the launching of the Autobot spy ship...

* * *

Optimus stood uneasily on platform immediately outside the main entrance hatch to the ship behind them, while media mingled with Autobot Elders below them. Elder Spanner stood just off to the side of the command crew, having introduced the crew. He had given his speech, a stirring example of the words Spanner had used in his long life to push through needed reforms in the Council chambers, and then stepped aside for Optimus to continue. 

And now the former researcher stood in front of a crowd, who seemed as bored as half his crew. Ratchet stood just behind him, Grimlock to the side of Ratchet, his large pulse rifle in hand swinging in a low arc from side to side as he scanned the crowd below, as well as the production facilities around them. Grimlock's security contingent were everywhere, weapons at the ready.

Ratchet's hand found its way to Optimus' shoulder. It was a reassuring weight, he thought, and Ratchet leaned forward slightly and murmured in a low tone, "Just be yourself. Believe me when I say the words will come."

Trusting his old friend, Optimus stepped forward. The low conversation in the crowd below silenced almost immediately, and looked up expectantly, waiting to hear these next words.

"This is an honour... I did not think I was due. The command of a starship is something that must be rigorously trained for, tested for. It is not something entrusted to one who has come from so low as I. Yes, we as a people can be reprogrammed. Our datacores can be updated with the information necessary to command, to direct, to action. But we are not all our programming. As a whole, we are so much more. Trillions of microscopic mechanical lifeforms, all living in harmony and unison. Lifeforms that add up to more than the sum of their parts. These influence us. We are a community within ourselves, and that community is as unable to be reprogrammed as is a piece of lifeless rock. I have been given the skills to command this mission, and yet I feel I am lacking in the capabilities to lead effectively."

There was a confused murmur from the crowd.

"I am uncertain. I have no experience to say, 'this course of action is better than the others,' or 'this is the point at which you give up,' or even 'this is the point at which I must take a stand.' So, with this in mind, I have selected a capable group of command officers, who have the skills I do not yet possess. Ratchet, my chief mechangineer, will also double as my first officer. His compassion and understanding have helped me many times in the past when I have faced personal crises of judgement. Grimlock brings a lifetime of security experience, from both areas with high and low levels of conflict. Prowl, a respected Judicator, brings experience with law and order, as well as the respect of the Judicators on board. Arcee is the best network systems engineer I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. There are others, but their skills and abilities will allow me to make the best informed decisions I possibly can."

Optimus paused for a few moments. He had everyone's attention now.

"This mission is like no other in living memory. Being the first of a new colonisation wave, spreading the life and vibrancy of Cybertronian culture to the stars, interacting with new and unexpected alien life forms, pushing forth the boundaries of knowledge... I am honoured to have been considered for this position. And while I do not think I deserved the honour, the fact remains I am now the commander of this vessel and her crew, and will act in the best interests of both to the best of my ability. My command crew will be best able to help me accomplish this, by telling me when I'm doing things wrong. By telling me when I'm doing things right. And by telling me where and how I can do things better."

"In short," Optimus concluded, "this mission will be a success, because I do not think there is a finer crew I could have to support me. The one major skill I had prior to this upgrade and position was historical research, and I have filed many reports based on the activities of these mechanoids. I know where they are strong, and likewise where I am weak; they are both avenues we can explore together in our time on this mighty vessel. Knowing these mechanoids in such ways, I have been doubly honoured in this breem. Command of a fine vessel, and command and support of a fine crew." With that, Optimus turned and strode up the ramp into the ship.

Taking his que, the other Autobots and neutrals on the podium turned and followed him. Arcee shot a look back at Cybertron, and muttered to Ratchet, "I so wish he hadn't picked me for this. This makes me way too high profile."

"All things happen for a reason," Ratchet said gently.

"Maybe so," Arcee muttered darkly, "but you're not the one facing assassination when we come back now, are you?" She shook her head in disgust and boarded. Ratchet eyed her from behind. After a moment, he realised Grimlock was standing behind him.

"She going to cause trouble?" the larger Autobot asked in a low voice.

"No," Ratchet replied. "She's young. And working in a dangerous field. I doubt our young friend knows half of what she gets up to. But his request... is already directed."

"That what worries me. His choices, already planned. Always hate that part of this." Grimlock, too, entered the ship.

Which left Ratchet. He gave Spanner a brief nod, then boarded, the ramp retracting behind him and the huge doors cycling shut with a resounding boom. It echoed with such finality that Ratchet was left feeling as if he'd never see Cybertron again. But he shook the negative feelings off, and headed for the bridge.

* * *

The world was very non-descript, to most of the Autobots who had previously travelled in space. An orgy of colour, form and sound on the surface, above the surface, even below the surface of the world Ark Secondus now orbited, and although it was new to Optimus Major, Grimlock and the others of the initial landing survey team had seen its like many a time before, and so were businesslike in their unloading of the shuttle. 

Optimus stood still, allowing his sensors to attune themselves to their new world. Every breeze recorded, every burble of the nearby river flowing between the hills denoting the sides of the valley the shuttle had landed in listened to, every cry of a predatory avian lifeform stored. He watched, enthralled, as a communal group of four-legged organic creatures sprung from under a nearby canopy of vegetation before stopping and eyeing the Autobots warily and leaping back into their cover. Optimus tracked their progress with a careful audio sensor.

From behind, Grimlock paused, watching his new leader. It had been a thousand breems since the ship had left Cybertron, and Optimus hadn't shown much difference from his previous designation, Optimix. So far, he was mostly content to review reports from the safety of his office, catching up on work he had left uncompleted on Cybertron and spending a little time seeking council from Ratchet. He appeared afraid of Grimlock, something Grimlock fancied. It meant if the Major needed saving, Grimlock only had to bark and the meek mech would turn tail and scamper, like those small organics in the forest had moments earlier. But still, it wasn't what was wanted. Not what was needed. This mission would require a leader, a commander, someone forged in the fires of combat.

He wasn't saying Sentinel Prime was wrong. He'd worked with him far too often to think the Prime was mistaken about something such as this, but the Major needed experience, and he wasn't going to get it on this rockball. Internally, he gave a release of tension. At least he had come down from the ship to see this planet firsthand, and not experience it through virtual screens in his office. Leading from the front, even if only charging headlong into peacetime. It was a start. The way he was observing things as well, that was -

Grimlock paused, and dropped the crate he had been holding. Delicate electronics smashed, and he heard Cosmos and Scamper behind him scramble to pick up the crate and salvage anything that could be saved. He tweaked his optics, and cast a look skywards, but still couldn't see anything due to the glare on his protective visor. Shading it with a hand, he saw something. "About time," he muttered.

"Grimlock?" Optimus asked, turning to face him.

Grimlock pointed skyward. "There something else up there."

Optimus looked up himself, straining his optics before belatedly increasing his magnification and fine-tuning his resolution. "I can't see anything. Are you sure?"

"Positive," Grimlock replied, lowering his face. "Something in orbit of this world that's not us."

Optimus considered, taking a few moments longer than Grimlock would have preferred, before turning to Cosmos. "Cosmos, contact the others. Have them return here, now. Leave the cargo. Scamper, ready the shuttle for launch." Returning his attention to Grimlock, he asked, "Is there any chance of it being something we can take out with the shuttle?"

First sign of combat intelligence, Grimlock conceeded, asking his security advisor if a stupid idea was a good idea. "Shuttle's a 76-HAPS. Has weapon systems, more combat-ready than the 42-LAPS, but still not advisable against anything other than unarmed Decepticon crawler drone. We have 102-AAPS's on board Ark Secondus, but I think our best option is with Ark Secondus' primary weapons."

"Hmmm..." Optimus considered a few more moments while Grimlock waited, before deciding. "No. You're right, we'll go back to the ship and go from there."

The trip back to the mothership seemed to take forever. Grimlock was very aware of tapping out a drumbeat with his fingers, and let others think it was anticipation of battle rather than annoyance at how slow this was taking. Still, Scamper eventually led them into the primary shuttlebay on Ark Secondus, and with a few deft touches, the shuttle settled into a mount on one of the elevator shafts to the storage bay. The shuttle doors opened, and Optimus was the first out. Was he ready for battle? Itching for combat? Heading for the bridge?

But no, Prowl and Ratchet were standing near the elevator. Once the Autobots had exited the shuttle, the elevator's warning siren sounded, and it was taken belowdecks, while the Major stopped to confer with Prowl. "Grimlock spotted something in orbit," he stated, the nervousness almost not showing in his voice, but showing in the way his frame shifted from foot to foot.

"We haven't seen anything," Prowl responded, handing Optimus a datapad to view, "but we have been detecting some disturbing readings nearby."

"Why didn't you contact us to communicate this?"

"There has been a large solar flare, commander" Prowl explained. "Long-range cOmmunications are out and sensors are malfunctioning intermittantly."

Grimlock stepped forward into Optimus' sight line. "Major, this is good time for an attack. We blind, incommunicado. Unaware. Anything happens to us now, no one know."

Optimus shook his head. "But surely, there can't be Decepticons this far from Cybertron. They don't usually range so far. I mean, galactically-speaking, we're very close to Cybertron, but still, this planet was picked because the Decepticons tend not to come this far out in this direction."

Grimlock watced patiently until Optimus finished talking, then explained so simple a newly-generated AI nanobot could understand it, "Decepticons go lots of places we think they don't. Ships don't always make it back in one piece, or they work through client species. Sometimes, they even create accidents. And sometimes, ship captains lie to avoid problems with the Council. Bunch of flickers. They got everyone placated that Decepticons no threat; some are. Simple as that. And this ship, very tempting target. And now a _natural_ communications blockage. Believe me, they are coming." Grimlock stepped away from Optimus and gestured to his approaching Dynamobots. "I suggest we all get ready for combat."

Before Optimus could retort, Arcee's voice flickered through the ship's commnet. "Alert! General alert! Mother's systems have detected a transwarp jump in the immediate vicinity! Drive signature is recording the vessel as IDC Ravager!"

Prowl lifted his wrist to his mouth and spoke into his comm. "Arcee, does Mother record the jump as terminal or outgoing?"

At the far end of the shuttlebay, the external doors exploded inwards. Two Autobots working on maintenance on the frames were lost immediately in an expanding bubble of superheated plasma, and another was hit by a huge chunk of the door, splicing her in two. Her legs jerked spasmodically, but Prowl couldn't see where her top half had gone. "Nevermind," he spoke into his comm while Arcee was double-checking her readings.

Another explosion shook the doors, and one of them blew inwards towards Optimus' group. However, Broadside was on the shuttle deck at the time, and blocked with his forearm, the huge thick sheet of metal riccocheting off to the side where it sliced into a wall. The ship juddered to one side with the impact, and the Ravager swung into view through the holes, still firing weapons at the Autobot vessel. But what depressed Optimus Major wasn't the sight of the small compact warship firing on his colony vessel, but the lines of Decepticon troops now reaching from the squat animal-like black ship and his own.

First in through the holes was Megatron, commander of the Ravager. His frame was larger than Optimus', and obviously built more for combat. Twin-linked chainguns at either side of his chest, a heavy plasma cannon mounted on his right arm, numerous tactical subsystems dotting his surface, and right now, everything on his body was targetted towards the Autobots. "Decepticons! Attack! Bring this ship down, and bring me the commander!"

With some small satisfaction, Megatron noted the Autobots almost as one turned and fled towards the doors from the shuttlebay. Among them, near one of the shuttle elevators, was Optimus Major. His red and blue colouration stood out from the others, and he smirked. This might be easier than expected. Or harder. Grimlock was there; of course Grimlock was there. And Grimlock and his troops were covering Major's retreat, so that meant this was going to be difficult. Megatron swore under his vocalisations.

Jetforms screamed past him. Skywarp paused for a few moments at Megatron's gesture. "Have you seen Starscream yet?" he asked.

Skywarp transformed into her robot form for a few moments before responding with a negative shake of her head. "No, commander Megatron. Starscream had been directing the troops from the launch bays when last I saw him. Do you want me to -"

Skywarp's sentence was interrupted by Starscream's arrival. He also transformed, his alternate mode almost as large as Megatron's. "Commander Megatron. All troops accounted for. Shockwave is standing on station with the skeleton crew, and advises if you require back-up, he stands ready to assist."

"Excellent," Megatron replied. "You nearly missed all the fun," he continued, gesturing at the shuttlebay, where Decepticon jetforms were strafing the still-scurrying Autobots. Broadside, notably, was using his massive body to shield numerous smaller Autobots, including Optimus Major, as they escaped down side passages, sealing the doors shut behind them.

"Oh Megatron, you know me," smirked Starsrceam. "I wouldn't miss this moment for all the energon left on Cybertron."

* * *

Grimlock stood up from where he had smashed open the door controls and yanked the locking mechanism. "That won't hold them for long." 

"Seal the doors!" Optimus said from behind. "We have to hold them out of the living areas. We have too many neutrals on board to allow that to happen!"

There was a particularly loud, but muffled, explosion from behind the doors, and the ship reverberated again with the collapse of something large on the other side. A few seconds later, Optimus could hear shooting again, and thumps of explosions and physical impacts, on the other side of the doors.

"Sorry, commander, but it's too late now. They're already coming through."

There was a brief interval when Grimlock thought Optimus would charge the doors, rip them open, and throw himself to death in the shuttlebay, but that passed, and Optimus instead helped pick up some of the wounded, headed deeper into the ship.

"What do we do now?"

Ignoring Grimlock for a moment, Optimus opened a comm line to Arcee. "Is Mother still secure?"

"Mother is," Arcee replied. "Soundwave's not up to my skills. Least, not with Autobot networks. Do you have a plan? We're taking on a few Decepticon troops, and with Grimlock and Prowl down with you, we've got no one up here to direct a counter-offensive."

"I have some different orders, Arcee, and it's going to take all your skill to make sure it's not detected and not countermanded."

"Okay..."

Grimlock didn't hear the rest, due to the bulkhead doors behind them blowing open to focussed Decepticon firepower. Slinging Windcharger over his shoulders, he turned and fired several times down the corridor, into the billowing smoke and vapour from the door, his Dynamobots doing likewise. Snarl and Sludge stepped in between him and the door, firing while they backtracked with Grimlock.

"You want me to fly **where**?" Arcee exploded over the comms.

"And then meet us in the Central Plaza," Optimus repeated, before closing the comm line on Arcee's angry squawk. He turned to the other Autobots, and gestured ahead of him. Autobots! Retreat to the Plaza! We'll hold the line there!"

Was this some kind of divine revelation? But no, Grimlock decided, it was more likely that Major thought it, being an open space with more room to spread out in, would be an easier place to defend. "That's madness!" he shouted. "The Plaza is open, little cover to be had! It much easier to protect the ship - to fight here!"

Major gave him a look that might have broken a soldier who didn't know he was still new to this, still unsure, still scared. A little minibot playing fully-upgraded. "We won't be doing any fighting, soldier," Major blurted. "It's time to end this. Our way." Then he turned, helping injured Autobots and civilians along, disappearing into smoke at the end of the corridor.

"Great," Grimlock muttered, "more talking."

Optimus stepped into the Central Plaza. Usually, this was full of life, light and colour, a bazaar showing the various nationalities of the peoples onboard Ark Secondus. But with combat ongoing, Mother had diverted power from the holodisplays and environmentals into structural integrity fields and engines. The ship gave a shudder as Major stepped across the threshold. He glanced upwards at the ceiling. Normally, this showed the outsides of the ship. Running along the central forward spine of the ship, the Plaza was exposed to space, enclosed by strong transparent alloys and overlapping energy fields in case of structural failure. The ceiling gave a low moan, metal under huge stress. "Please Mother, hold together," he offered to the mainframe.

Behind him, Grimlock entered, tossing Windcharger to a nearby mechangineer. "Here?"

"Here, and no further," Optimus agreed.

"Right! Sludge, Snarl, barricades here, here and there," Grimlock pointed. "This is our containment point. This is where we hold. This is where the Decepticons to **not** get past!" He reached out and grabbed a passing Autobot. "Get me a bigger gun."

* * *

Across the ship, separated from Optimus and his group, Ratchet stumbled towards the engineering bay. He knew, once the attack was repelled, there would be casualties, and he would need to be in the engineering bay to direct the various damage control teams. Ark Secondus heaved beneath him, and he was flung into a wall. "Steady now, Ratchet, steady," he said to himself, before pushing himself to his feet. He could hear the structure around him groaning under pressure, and the wall beneath his hand didn't feel very steady, either. Perhaps, he decided, it wasn't a good idea to be headed down this corridor. It ran along the edge of the ship, and it felt like it was under some intense pressures from outside. Something had gone wrong. He'd passed a cross-corridor a few steps back, that headed into an area that had more structural reinforcing, and would be safer, whatever was coming, so Ratchet turned around - 

- at the same time Brawl exited the corridor. For a moment, Autobot and Decepticon regarded each other in shock, then Brawl's faceplate gave the imitation of a smirk. "Just how I like my Autobots. Weak, defenceless, alone."

Before Brawl could fire, there was a loud groan to Ratchet's right, and then an even louder crack. Ratchet managed to get out an "Oh de-" before part of the primary load-bearing strut for this section snapped loose from its connection to the outer hull, and smashed downwards and sideways, smashing him into the wall. There wasn't a lot left for Brawl to shoot, seeing as he could only see feet and an arm protruding around the sides of the huge beam, so he stepped back, a little shocked and embarrassed. Perhaps he could still claim this kill? Still, the unstable ship made him worried. He chuckled nervously as he stepped back down the corridor he'd entered from, before an explosion ripped out of the floor and temporarily overloaded his neural processors.

* * *

The Central Plaza was awash with light again, and sounds, but not the happy sounds from the bazaar. Instead, explosions and weapon discharges washed through the open area, and smoke wafted throughout, obscuring target locks on missiles and scattering the beams on lasers. Plasma bolts created interesting whirls and patterns in the smoke, before evaporating armour and internal subsystems and creating more smoke to obscure and confuse. 

From the direction of the bridge, Arcee arrived in her vehicular form. Springing off her back tyre, she transformed and took up a place at the central barricade beside Optimus, who was using his new considerable firepower to try and keep Megatron in check. Arcee also picked him out as a target, and snapped off a few well-aimed shots that nonetheless splattered harmlessly off his armour. "I did what you asked me to! Now, will you tell me why you had me set a collision course?"

From the other side of Optimus, Grimlock's attention perked up. Collision course? Maybe he did have the right mechanics.

From the next barricade over, Starscream also heard this as he dismembered an Autobot.

"Ark Secondus and her secrets cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the Decepticons. And, likewise, this world and its petrochemical deposits cannot be allowed to be used and abused by citystates allied to that cause. Either way," Optimus concluded as Megatron stepped from the doorway into the Plaza fully, "this has to end, now."

Starscream looked from Optimus, to Megatron, and then the door behind Megatron. A split-second of hesitation, but the news about the ship crashing, that was all he needed to hear. A quick glance at the transparent ceiling, and the first flickings of flame licking over the edges was all Starscream needed to see. He transformed quickly, and shot down the corridor they had arrived through, racing for the shuttlebay.

Megatron's head turned to follow, even as Skywarp yelled, "Commander! Where are you - wait for me!" Moments later, she had transformed and followed Starscream into the clouds of smoke and steam in the corridor.

"Where are they going?" Megatron mused.

"Dunno," Thundercracker replied from behind Megatron, using his leader as a shield to fire around. Megatron returned his attention to the Autobots firing at him.

Almost as if on cue, Mother reported over the comm lines. "Warning. Deep vehicular storage bay removed. Engine 3 failure. Engine 4 failure. Engine 1 failure imminent. Fuel systems disrupted. Defence networks down. Computer core damaged. Attempting to reroute -"

"No," Megatron breathed, then turned to look at Optimus, before turning to the front of the Plaza. Through the transparent metal ceiling, he could see the planet now, much, much closer than it should have been. Flames burnt across the surface, and the ship shuddered and shook, bucking and almost causing him to lose his footing. Stresses groaned through the decking, and he saw the metal at the end of the Plaza start to buckle.

* * *

Starscream made it to the shuttlebay, and could see the flames of re-entry flowing around the edges of the blasted-in external doors. Outside, he could see Ravager, following the ship, but keeping just outside the atmosphere to be safe. "Only have moments," Starscream yelled to himself, urging more response out of his engines. "Only have **moments**! Have to survive!" 

Skywarp followed. "Commander, what - what's -" But before she could finish, explosions ripped the Ravager apart in the distance, and the shockwaves from the engine core's detonation reached out and flipped Ark Secondus off it's nicely-planned re-entry crash curve, and plunged it deeper into the atmosphere.

The two Decepticon jets didn't notice Broadside's body falling from the back of the ship, even as they were dashed into the ceiling and then smashed into the decking.

* * *

Megatron kept his footing, and Optimus only kept his since Megatron had him around the neck with a big hand and was squeezing. While the grip itself wouldn't terminate Optimus' functions, much more of a grip, and his head would pop right off. A recoverable injury, to be sure, but in the meantime, he would lose much in the way of important fluids and mobility. "What have you done?" Megatron shouted at him. 

Calmly in the face of certain death, Optimus replied, "Exactly what I had to," before the front of the Plaza gave way to atmospheric stresses and caved in, plasma roiling through the open area, melting, scorching and vapourising those closest to it, the compression wave smashing the others towards the rear wall of the Plaza before the plasma could melt them. The wave dissipated, but only moments before it was all over.

* * *

From the outside, the coastal scene was quiet. Then, there was a screaming. Something large and heavy, hot and fiery passed overhead, causing spontaneous fires to explode in its path. 

In the distance, a volcano bisected its travel. There was a huge explosion, and moments later, the shocked volcano shudder and gave an eruption, before everything calmed down.

* * *

Time passed. 

Animals and vegetation came and went. Eventually, an egotistical animal settled the area. Within a far shorter timespan than was normally expected of such things, they developed internal combustion engines, wireless communications, ranged weapons.

And then, the egotistical animals developed atomic weapons...

_TO BE CONTINUED..._


	2. Issue 2 The Dark of Death

_Relatively standard disclaimer stuff. Existing characters are properties of Hasbro in this situation. While the names might be the same, the characters themselves may not. The story is original, and the setting is mine. Historical figures are used without permission. Contact me at if you have any queries about the story contained herein._

TRANSFORMERS 1942   
Issue 2

The Dark Of Death

For four million years, the vast ship lay encased in rock. While the ship had originally waited for release from its tomb, after less than a tenth of a vorn, Mother had realised that rescue wasn't coming, and that the rock that surrounded the ship would need to be weathered down by natural forces, or released by another volcanic eruption similar to the one that had sealed it into place. With the damage the vessel had taken in the crash, Mother slowly transferred as much energon as possible into storage tanks that weren't damaged and could be completely sealed from the environment, as well as transferring dwindling power reserves into batteries, waiting for the time the vessel would be free. 

It could take thousands of vorns, but Mother had time to wait. 

Four million revolutions of the local star passed. Four million years. A long time, even for a Cybertronian. Ice came and went. Islands were formed. Continents and mountain ranges were shaped. Animal life grew, flourished, declined, and grew again. 

Four million years. 

And then, life. 

A huge mushroom cloud of dust and rock and plasma exploded into the atmosphere, radioactive particles dancing briefly before being sucked up by the inrush of material to replace the air blasted out by the detonation. An early atomic device, a low-yield British impactor bomb, had been tested on the face of the volcano, now named Mount St Helens, that was furtherest from the closest human township. People living nearby thought the volcano had erupted, and moments after the initial explosion, they were right, as the mountain, angry at being outdone after millions of years of reasonably peaceful slumber, awoke in an extremely violent manner. 

After the initial eruption of magma into the upper atmosphere, and ash settled across the region, covering the gound everywhere in an off-white blanket akin to a thick snow, the ground settled. Few had noticed the high altitude Army Air Force bomber drop the bomb, none had seen the bomb hit bang on target - a slight depression in the side of the volcano - and with the debris from the eruption and the explosion, no one saw that the rock face had been partially vaporised. Certainly, no one saw the pitted metal of the giant conical engine exhausts of Ark Secondus, nor the broad expanse once clean and flat, now tattered and torn, where the shuttlebay hatches resided. No one saw the huge plates of metal flung backwards out from the giant cave, nor the occasional glimpse of a scattered limb or torso of a giant metal warrior. 

But the ship registered daylight on a rear-mounted sensor. Acting in accordance with survival programming, a small sensor subroutine of Mother's was fed power, and additional readings were sought from multiple other sensors surrounding the ship. Many refused to reply; others replied in gibberish, but a further three crash-hardened sensors reported daylight or free oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, sulphur... all in gaseous form. Pressure sensors in the hull were booted up next, and those that reported into the subroutine suggested that while the front half of the ship remained buried, and a large section of the bottom appeared to be missing, the rear half of the ship was free of its prison. Mother cautiously brought several more systems online, and detected the main vent of the volcano - molten magma had forced its way up in the eruption, passed to either side around the ship, and had continued upwards along a single fault crack - almost straight up from Ark Secondus' dorsal fin. 

Laser readings suggested an unobstructed path, and with a final decision, Mother activated and launched a single Auntie probe. 

Firing straight up into the ash plume above the volcano, Auntie protected herself with a magnetic shield that repelled the debris, while also protecting herself from observation by any natives that had arisen in the time Mother had been dormant. No one noticed her, and within minutes, she was in a low orbit, trailing a series of small comm relays behind her to allow for a communication downlink with Mother when Auntie was out of line of sight. Mother also launched a small mobile comm relay to climb the chimney-like vent of the volcano, to perch on the lip of the crater and transmit signals from Auntie back down to the ship below. 

From orbit, Auntie circled the globe. An array of sensors were trained on the surface below, soaking in terrain information and scanning for lifeforms. She made several sweeps of the ground with variable sensors - magnetic, electromagnetic, optical, and atmospheric to recreate the sounds of the indiginous lifeforms - if any. 

And she found lifeforms. Near Ark Secondus was what appeared to be a major near-coastal city, teaming with mechanoid life. It mostly seemed to be limited to what appeared to be mostly-straight road surfaces and constructions made of obviously artificial materials. Strangely, the surface was limited to organic and natural-state carbon forms instead of being built or rebuilt with metals, and Aunty wondered at this, but higher thoughts than this were beyond her programming. She simply downloaded the information to Mother via the chain of comm relays, and continued to scan for dominant life forms. 

There were many. It surprised her just how much life the planet teemed with. And yet, she detected no advanced neural systems, no feedback systems. It seemed the life of this world was just beginning, in a low form. Internal combustion engines were plentiful, with some slightly more advanced engines in several locations around the world. These places were sites of intense clustering of armoured buildings in the main part, but a few were under thin woven materials that Aunty decided had to be some kind of camoflage from aerial observation. 

Thankfully, her systems were a bit more advanced than the ones on this planet. 

She continued to gather bodyforms for Mother's crew, large armoured vehicles, aerial vessels with woefully short ranges and pitiful armour and armaments, ocean-going vessels (Aunty wasn't so surprised to see fresh water on this planet - the initial scans on the planet before the crash had shown large amounts of water and organic compounds), and many smaller vehicles woefully adapted to wild terrain, but well-suited for the straight-lined roads. Fortunately for the crew of Ark Secondus, Aunty was only interested in the exterior form of the machine - internal appearances could be sparse or for display purposes only, while internal systems could be fully Cybertronian in manufacture - simply reshaping the alternate form of the Cybertronian, which would require some work on limb placement and external shell armour, would in most cases be enough. But again, this wasn't something that Aunty was worried about. 

Passing over a large landmass three quarters of the way around the planet from her start point, she detected something interesting: what appeared to be some kind of major ideological difference. From the assumed safety of orbit, Aunty watched intently as a variety of armed and armoured forms lumbered across deserts, mudflats, over hills, through thick forests, urban environments, sailed across oceans and flew with early grace in the skies. They spat death at one another, exploded into bright white fireballs and their carcases lay strewn around the terrain. Passing over one area, Aunty took a fright - what appeared to be some kind of ground-based orbital strike weapon pointed towards her, but a quick scan showed she was in no danger; indeed, while the visuals suggested some kind of chemical rocket, the shell was just that - a shell with little inside. 

Certainly no weapons payload. Thus, no threat. But it gave her concern to recheck her avoidance systems - just to be on the safe side. Aunty hadn't expected life similar to a number of Decepticons listed in her memory to have engineered naturally on this world. The slumbering warriors back at Ark Secondus would not have complete information on their new home if she became inactive before her time. 

With her first orbit complete, Aunty dumped all the data she'd gathered into a single transmission, and pumped it towards Mother. Whereas in the messages to trailing satellites she had squirted back information of interest, now she transferred everything she'd scanned and thought while observing. She'd follow this pattern until Mother communicated otherwise, and for that she was happy; this looked to be an interesting world and she was looking forward to more study.

* * *

Mother received the download, and began considering her next move. Certainly, many Autobots lay fallen and deactivated within her halls, and repairing them would deplete her reserves long before she made a dent. Her crew numbered approximately five thousand, and she knew many must have been lost in the crash. And the Decepticon attack that led to it. She also had no means of scanning the fallen to determine whether they were Autobot and Decepticon - or even neutral civilians, a number of whom had been travelling on Ark Secondus for her exploratory mission. Sure, some might wear insignia, but the sides were not fully understood by Mother - some, like Megatron, had worn badges as a sign of honour, while others had chosen not to for one reason or another. She had heard from the other Arks at the Kanex Shipyards that there existed an elite cadre of Decepticons who blended in with Autobots and civilians, taking on their insignia and ways until such time as a strike was needed... also, certain Autobots had started off in territories that had been comprised mostly of Decepticons, and still wore faded Decepticon insignias. 

So, there was the question of whom to revive... 

While Aunty continued scanning the planet from orbit, Mother activated what few automated agents she found operational. Most of her internal work units had been destroyed or buried in the crash, others had been jarred from recharging points. The few she found active, mostly responding to instructions, and still plugged into their recharge points she fully energised and released on the damaged Cybertronians scattered throughout the ship. 

The systemic regeneration tanks trundled over rubble, through blocked corridors by reconfiguring their forms to a smaller profile, and retreived what remains they could as they found it to be deposited at collection points, where transport trundlers gathered the fragments and shifted them into areas that had been designated as emergency refuge shelters. Mother knew, from what remained of inventory checklists, that certain supplies that might be beneficial for repairwork were contained in some of them, and that they had been crash-hardened against situations just like this. The early reports from the trundlers started flowing through the network in spurts, suggesting various sections of the network were damaged beyond Mother's ability to repair with her limited resources, were stating that the routes to many of the forward shelters were blocked. This was expected, and the trundlers were redirected to areas further aft. Once the fragments were dropped, they were scanned with wide-ranging quantum resolution sensors, and piled according to the ID that was tagged from that information. Unfortunately, crew tagging routines were locked in a section of the network unavailable to Mother, so another means of identification of remains was ruled out. 

All Mother could do was prioritise based on lack of needed repairs and hope for the best. 

Repair subsystems slaved to Mother's central processors moved into work on the remains. Neural frames were packed and repacked, shuffling in replacement cores and structures, before releasing restored personality matrices into the latticework while manipulator arms began molecular bonding processes on damaged components. 

Mother's estimates of the energy consumption suggested she would be able to reconfigure and reactivate maybe a dozen Transformers, and retain enough energon stores to both run her own systems on a minimal level for occupancy while emergency repairs were made and new fuel sources sought, so she limited the mobile tanks to locate those mostly complete bodies for transfer, with anything in the area that might be scanned to be from their systems. 

Crawling feeder lines snaked across the decking, swarming into position on bodyparts to unleash a mere trickle of energon, to slowly bring internal operating systems online, for the Transformers themselves to awake from their long dark slumber. The automated systems reconfigured limb arrangement and construction for suitable camouflage changeforms, colour-bonded armour materials and provided the ability to utilise the advanced Cybertronian systems through a series of concealed hatches or exterior camouflaged hardpoints. 

Internal systems booted slowly, until the Transformers' own system checks were completed and awareness returned. Vision blurred and de-rezed before pattern recognition software rebuilt itself and gave translatable images. Sound was magnified until buffers switched on, filtering out the background sounds to focus on the intelligence's direction. Movement returned sluggishly, as the reconstructed motor control links sent and resent commands to have the internal engines and hydraulics respond, noting what worked and what didn't. Fingers moved, then fists flexed, elbows helped push the mechanoids to their feet where they swayed unsteadily for a few moments before regaining their balance. 

Megatron, the first of the reactivated, stared down at his hands in surprise. "I... I still function!" he announced, more to himself than anyone else. His last memories had been a wall of superheated plasma bearing down on him, then a gigantic tremor, before a scant millisecond of blackness that preceeded his survival mode shutdown. 

"Yes," a voice from behind him replied. Megatron turned; it was Starscream, larger, more powerful-looking than before. His null-ray cannons seemed to be shorter, more compact, with ventilation holes along the barrels, and his form was now a silvery white in colour, with his customary deep red and midnight blue colours showing on what was obviously his changeform's internal components. "We do," Starscream continued a moment later. 

Megatron took this opportunity to glance down at himself. His fusion cannon was still mounted on his right arm, but the design looked far more basic than before, and wasn't partially internally contained - it was fully mounted on his forearm. He too was coloured a silvery white, but of a different composition to Starscream's shell. His armour looked far more robust, and was mixed in with various darker components. 

"Commander," a feminine voice from behind Megatron spoke. He recognised the voice, but still turned. Skywarp, like Starscream displaying signs of an aerial changeform, a glossy black in colour with purple stripes. Thundercracker, a mottled blue and grey in colour, stood slightly behind her, staring at his hands, flipping them over and over. Behind them, what appeared to be Brawl was in the final stages of reconstruction and activation, the focussing ring of lights behind his optic visor coming online. His body seemed slightly larger than everyone's except for Starscream, with a heavy backpack that seemed to consist mostly of a large gun turret. 

Megatron acknowledged his troops with a nod, while wondering if this was it, was this really all of his boarding party that had survived? No, it wasn't possible. The Autobots were made in general more flimsy than the Decepticons, his troops should mostly be fine. They had to be. Otherwise, he'd just lost several hundred under his command... 

A noise from the doorway to the emergency shelter broke his dark thoughts. Looking over, he saw Soundwave, also displaying a new body. He was shorter than Megatron remembered, but not by much, and showed a curious-looking band with black lines and internal light across his waist. "Megatron," Soundwave broke the silence, "I have found the Autobots. They too are being rebuilt, in a nearby shelter." 

"What are we waiting for?" Starscream stepped forward. Megatron held up a hand after a moment's thought. 

"We will reconnoitre."

* * *

The other working shelter was a floor up and two rooms over, and in slightly better shape than the one the Decepticons had woken in. However, whereas the displays around the walls in their shelter had displayed aircraft and wheeled and tracked ground forms, this shelter the Autobots were being rebuilt in only displayed wheeled forms of what were presumably the dominant species of this world. 

And in the centre of the room, Optimus Major stood unsteadily. His new body showed a wire grill in his chest, with thick wheels built for traction in muddy environments. Wheel covers were angular, even on his powerful legs. From his shoulders, a canvas cape hung, moving slightly in the slow air currents through the room. 

Behind him, other Autobots also stood. Prowl's body was still shorter than Optimus', and a different kind of alternate mode. A long section of his changeform hung down from his shoulders to his hips, and wheels showed body at his shoulders and his ankles. What appeared to be some kind of door also extended from each shoulder, just offside frmo his twin shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. Ironhide's tracked body was connected to his battle rig, using the internal manipulator arms to pull Bumblebee to his feet. The smaller yellow and black striped Autobot shook his head, no expression showing through his blackened vision slit in his helmet. Hound, coloured green and grey, stood between Optimus and Megatron, his optics moving between each of the changeforms shown on the wall displays. 

"This world has advanced much since we crashed," Hound mused, before a sound in the doorway caused the Autobots to look up and see the Decepticons. For a moment, there was no movement. 

Starscream broke the shocked silence by raising his arms, preparing to fire his null-rays. However, Megatron blocked his line of fire with an arm. "Hold your fire," he growled, before taking a quick look at the Autobots. Major was similarly holding his troops in line. 

Indeed, Major rumbled, "We do not have the energon at present to engaged in hostilities." 

Brawn stepped in front of Optimus. "We don't need much energon to punch them in their processors!" 

"They are weak and unco-ordinated!" Starscream echoed Brawn's sentiment. "We should strike now, before they have a chance to retaliate!" 

"Starscream, check your systems. We have been supplied with a small amount of energon. We cannot power our main weaponry. If we fight now, we may very well triumph, but at what cost? What does a pyrric victory matter? No." Megatron shook his head decisively. "We need to seek new sources of fuel before we can continue this fight." 

Optimus had stayed silent until this point, uncertain. But upon hearing that they were not to fight immediately, he added for the benefit of his own troops, "What Megatron said is truth. We are all underpowered and uncertain of our present situation." He gestured at Megatron as the Decepticon leader herded his troops from the large shelter, directing Skywarp to keep an eye on their retreat. "Before we make any move, we need to be certain of our own circumstances. Only with knowledge can we hope to win over the Decepticons and return some sense of normalcy to this mission." 

"But Major!" Brawn complained, "we had them _right there!_ Right in the doorway! We could have -" 

"**Brawn.**" Optimus' voice brooked no argument, and Brawn subsided. "I sympathise. Honestly, I do. I am by nature a desk clerk. This... combat thing is not something I have experience with, and I trust in those I have with me to help me make those decisions. But one thing I did learn from my desk job is, an unprepared force is usually a defeated force. Of all the missions I had to log in the Knowledge Dome, those I learned from the most where those where few survived, usually because a commander refused to investigate their surroundings before leading forth, and with the obvious damage done to Ark Secondus, I would prefer to know the... lay of the land before I make any decisions. And also, fighting within Ark Secondus is **not** something I wish to encourage. Not after the battle that forced my hand in this way." 

Prowl spoke up in support of Optimus. "He's right. As a Judicator, our greatest strength was knowing the region we operated in. We knew the place we were stationed in, because we lived there, we knew the natives and what would and wouldn't cause us trouble. Major wanting to do this here is only good sense." 

Hound also gave his agreement with a distracted grunt, still entranced by the lifeforms displayed on the walls. 

Optimus addressed his next words to the ceiling. "Mother! How long did we sleep after the crash?" 

There was an almost audible pause while Mother re-routed power to long-disused vocal systems. "Approximately 48193 vorns have passed since the course correction that resulted in the crash that entombed this unit." 

"Is there any information from Aunty on what has changed with this planet?" Hound asked. 

"Aunty has been transmitting data on a series of primitive races engaged in tribal warfare across the surface of this planet. Transferring this data to the main viewer." 

The Autobots turned towards the far wall, which blinked out and was replaced by images of bright colours, showing orbital views of the world outside. For the next few hours, the Autobots absorbed everything they could from the screens in silence. Even Brawn had to admit he was impressed by the varieties of terrain on offer, as well as some of the close looks at the natives. 

"Those look like Decepticons," he finally spoke. 

"Where?" Optimus asked. 

"There," Brawn replied, pointing at a location on the screen. "Mother, hold. Replay shard 127 as main, index 31.7 to 41.2." Obligingly, Mother replayed the appropriate section, expanded to the full wall. "Optimus, take a look at this." 

Heavy tracked machines trundled across the wall from a top-down perspective. Coated in mud and muck, painted in similar colours to the Autobots and ground-based Decepticons the better to blend into the terrain, they crawled around at comparitively slow speeds and spat fire at each other. Optimus picked out multiple different types of the same machine - different breeds, engineered for different purposes, he wondered? - as well as numerous lighter life forms, similar in appearance to Hound's changeform. Other items swarmed on the screen around them, and Optimus thought of them similar to the base carbon life the initial survey had detected and decided were of no consequence. 

Although, strangely, they were moving almost as if directed by the machines. Perhaps they had been domesticated...? 

"Mother, what is going on in this part of the world?" 

Mother's response came back as twin aeroforms strafed ground targets and dropped some kind of heavy explosive device, blowing mud and metal to the sky. "The societies have progressed to a point where tribal wars for resources have broken out across the planet." 

"Are there too few resources for the societies to share?" Optimus queried. 

"More to the point," Hound added, "are there enough resources for us to trade?" 

"Aunty's scans suggest that resources are not yet unplentiful. Ratios of depletion and reclaimation of materials are far lower than when resource raids began on Cybertron." 

"These look like Decepticons," Ironhide mused quietly. "Have they conquered this world while we have been asleep?" 

Optimus shook his head. "This is not the way Decepticons work. I know this... well, not from direct experience, but from my previous data entry work. And consider: some Autobots have aerial forms as well as the Decepticons do. It is likely these life forms have engineered under different environmental pressures than our forebears had on Cybertron. But to prove this, we would need to open a dialogue." 

"I vote that I do that!" Bumblebee announced. 

"This is a world... of great diversity of organic materials and mechanical life, and that dichtomy might have launched a completely different subset of alternate forms, or indeed, non-Cybernoid bodyforms. They may just be exactly as they appear to have engineered. 

"Optimus," Prowl sounded loathe to interject, but was watching the screens with interest, "there's one problem with that hypothesis..." 

"Yes, Prowl?" 

"There was no sign of life on this planet when we carried out our survey. Life this complex..." Prowl's voice trailed off as Aunty's displays showed an interesting grasp of primitive aerial tactics befoer continuing. "Life this complex could not have engingeered in the time we were deactivated." 

Before Optimus could respond, Bumblebee interjected. The view from Aunty had moved on to real-time footage again, and was displaying a vast ocean of liquid water. "There's an awful lot of water on this planet. This is the second major ocean Aunty has crossed. I'm going to enjoy this place!" 

Optimus chuckled, a little nervously. "I'm glad you don't need to worry abut rust infections, unlike the rest of us. But I too wonder... this world is so diverse compared to Cybertron. So much life and energy... it makes me feel..." 

"Homesick?" Hound enquired, but Optimus remained silent.

* * *

The world outside, on a tree-covered hill a dozen kilometres away from the ship's crash site, was covered in fine falling ash. In the distance, Mount St Helens' plume of dust and ash was already slowing in speed and ferocity, and the fallout was now washing across the vegetation nearby. The dull roar of the eruption was fading, now really only the echoing retort of the few massive boulders ejected from the crater smashing down the mountainside disturbed the silence. 

Here, among the ash-covered pine trees, the Decepticons gathered after their flight from Ark Secondus. Once on the ground, Starscream stalked towards Megatron, his feet sinking into the slightly soggy ground. "Why?" he growled, "why did we flee? We had them! We could have taken them then and there!" 

"I'll explain again, Starscream," Megatron replied patiently. "We are low on fuel. We have no reserves. Ark Secondus is an Autobot ship, and had we won, the program core could easily dispose of anything remaining before Soundwave would have been able to stop it. In addition, the Autobots, while seeming as weak as we, are augmented by the presence of the Major. Their strength is often almost legendary." 

Behind the two Decepticons, Skywarp followed quietly, ever at her flightpack leader's side and ready to cover him if anything went wrong. Further back, Soundwave extended an antenna, and began scanning the surrounding electromagnetic landscape for signals from any intelligent life on the planet. Brawl and Thundercracker made up the last party, kicking at the trees to make the ash fall on the ground and laughing. 

"But -" 

"However," Megatron interupted, "there must be sources of energon or some other fuel we can adapt. The Autobot vessel detected intelligent life here, and has camouflaged our bodies to be able to blend in here, so some form of useable energy will exist. Before we can continue our... fight with the Autobots, we need to have a fuel source we can rely on before we make any rash moves. Hurrying into a fight before we are ready could be disastrous." 

Soundwave broke in from his side of the spaced-out group. "Megatron! I have located what appears to be a source of energon, separate to the Autobot supply. It is a polluted form, weak, but in quantity and would still power our systems." 

"This is nearby?" Megatron asked. 

"That is correct. From a facility I am detecting a higher amount of unsecured transmissions - made mostly via copper hardlines rather than any form of non-contact transmission - than the surrounding area." Soundwave pointed towards the west of their position. "It is in that direction." 

"Excellent!" Megatron announced. "Decepticons, gather yourselves! We take this facility, refine the fuels involved, and then we shall have the power to push the remaining Autobots to the brink!" 

Starscream grimaced at Soundwave, but transformed into a large flying wing bomber. Megatron, shrinking as he transformed into a handgun, leapt into Starscream's waiting cockpit. Soundwave, transforming into a metal backpack covered in dials, switches and antennae, leapt aboard Thundercracker's sleaker and smaller jet form. Brawl, too large for Skywarp to carry, shrugged at the black Decepticon, and transformed into his heavy tracker vehicle mode, while Skywarp leapt for the sky to catch up with her comrades. 

They flew for the undefended facility...

* * *

The Autobots stood still in the emergency shelter, absorbing everything they could about the world outside, when Mother coughed, then blared an alarm. The Autobots started, Optimus instinctively ducking and looking around at the door - but no Decepticons stood there. 

"Mother!" he yelled, a little spooked by the loud jarring sound after the silence, "what is the problem?" 

"Alert!" Mother announced. "Aunty reports Decepticon movement towards a local population centre." 

"What?" 

"Aunty also reports the possibility of an energon storage facility at a particular locality on the outskirts of the centre." 

Optimus took a step back. Energon? In a natural form? It was possible, he supposed, although while Ark Secondus' initial surveys of the planet showed extensive supplies of petrochemicals, none showed the unique radioactive properties of energon. "Is Aunty able to confirm the scans? Is this natural or engineered energon?" 

"Aunty reports the purity may be in question but is unable to make a full scan from current orbital height and angle," Mother replied. "Aunty is unsure if the occurance is natural or engineered, but is contained in storage tanks at a facility. No other energon has been detected, although Decepticon-like life forms are present at the facility, and more may therefore be shielded from orbital scans around the planet, or out of Aunty's sensor range." 

Optimus turned to his companions, while trying to assess the situation. The other Autobots looked back expectantly, waiting for some kind of wisdom, and although he was surrounded by Autobots, Optimus felt very alone and very uncertain. But something in him said he couldn't show that to the others. So he took a final glance at the screen, now updated showing the Decepticon position rapidly approaching the facility, as well as various pictures of what appeared to be an outpost of some kind at the target lcoation, then turned firmly back to the door, and led the way to the shuttlebay. 

The rear doors enclosing the bay had been splintered in the crash, and some chunks lay around the inside of the bay; others remained outside only now exposed by the force of the bomb and the eruption. Optimus looked at the shuttles scattered about like a newly-engineered mech's edutainment devices with dismay; the Decepticons would arrive well before the Autobots could. A quick glance exchanged with Brawn showed the same thoughts echoing across his normally gruff face. 

"Autobots..." Optimus began, intending on giving a speech. But again, inexperience showed, and rather than giving a rousing motivational lecture before ordering the transit, he stumbled verbally. "Autobots, transform and roll out!" 

One by one, the Autobots changed. Optimus folded over, closing doors and having his transport truck form around him. Bumblebee collapsed into a small, rounded yellow car with black stripes. Hound transformed into a light 4-wheel form the Autobots had seen on the transmissions from Aunty. Brawn changed into a similar vehicle, but with a covered back section, while Ironhide formed a bulky civilian vehicle that looked to Brawn like a brick on wheels, and Prowl transformed into a similar form to Bumblebee, but green and a longer chassis than the smaller Autobot. 

On Optimus' cue, the Autobots drove from the shuttlebay, onto the volcanic ash and debris from the recent eruption. They avoided fumeroles, crevasses and obvious dust pits and thinly-covered holes, before making it into the forest beyond the range of the immediate devastation, and after a short time, they found a sealed road, and headed in the direction Mother had plotted from Aunty's orbital observations. 

Privately, Optimus was very worried. While he was trying to project the image that he felt his companions needed, that of the wise, knowing, brave and experienced leader, he was very unsure. And what was compounding the problem at the moment, was the thought that they would not be in time... 

"I only hope we are not too late for the peaceful inhabitants of this city," he thought to himself, "because if I know the Decepticons, _these_ Decepticons, all of the energon on this world will not save them."

* * *

Sergeant Charles Glover glowered at his group of new recruits. Most glowered back, and all were too smart to say anything as he barked at them from time to time as he marched up and down the line on the parade ground. All were green troops, newly shipped in for training here at Fort Hamilton in Portland, Oregon, from the interior states. Farm kids. At least that meant most knew how to use a gun, even if it was a rifle better used to scare dogs and trespassers over shooting someone dead in cold blood. Sadly for a soldier, even a farmboy soldier, shooting someone in cold blood was a lot more difficult than scaring animals and people. That was one of the good things about the basic training these recruits would be going through. It would break them down and make them men. Men worth standing beside, even if they didn't want you to. 

He inspected his new charges, barking at the occasional farmboy who was standing the wrong way or had scuffs on his shoes, several others for no discernable reason other than to keep them on their toes. Mostly bark, but with a good, hard bite. He'd been in Pearl when the Japs had attacked, been strafed by those foreign planes and those damnable new devices the infernal animals had been creating, and that made him a bit of a legend. A lot of good men had died that day, a lot of them friends, and a lot more were far too young to die. A Naval or Army-Air Force posting to the Pacific, Pearl was supposed to be a good place to spend time. And it had. But there were a lot of people who would never grow up lying there now. 

Still, Glover reminded himself, that wasn't something for the here and now; that was something for after these boys knew their work and could strut their stuff. 

He stalked back to his central position in front of the recruits, and opened his mouth to speak, when he became aware of a roar in the distance that was rapidly approaching. 

"There!" Megatron shouted from inside Starscream's cockpit to his loyal Decepticons. "The location of the facility! Decepticons, a surgical strike. Take what we need! Energon and intelligence." 

With growing awareness of an impending attack, Glover watched trained men run from barracks to mounted ack-ack guns. Ammo was fed into the barrels, and spat into the sky at the approaching planes. They made noises Glover had never heard before from an American plane 

It was a sound he remembered from Pearl. The untouchable ones, the planes that had spat death and destruction and hadn't been able to be touched by incoming AA fire. 

"Men! This is it!" he yelled above the growing din. "If you've fired a rifle before, grab one from the Armoury and meet me behind the barracks! If you haven't, get to a shelter and help the corpsmen with any injured! Go! GO!" The last word was roared, and the group of recruits scattered according to their assigned dierctions. 

AA fire spattered from Starscream's hull, raising a line of sparks and a puff of lead and metal, but Starscream's fuselage was unharmed. He snorted, and with the briefest of thoughts, directed a missile to strike the nearest of the AA guns. Megatron reminded Starscream, "They are pitiful. Static machines with only rudimentary defence mechanisms. They post no threat to our bodyforms." 

With a grunt, Starscream transformed into his robot mode, his feet smashing into the parade ground and digging up furrows of dirt and grass. Four men fired at Starscream with rifles, but again the bullets did nothing except raise a few sparks with the riccochets. Starscream opened his cockpit and removed Megatron gingerly with two fingers, then flung him aside. Megatron transformed into his robot form, while Thundercracker - similarly now standing transformed next to his commander - also tossed Soundwave aside to allow him to transform and expand to full size. 

"Even this planet's organic components have engineered basic defences," Soundwave commented, using his far larger legs to crush several of the troops running towards him with their rifles pointed at him. "Or the life on this world has developed an organic component as an assist for mobility," he theorised after a few moments. 

More troops poured into the parade ground, armed with a variety of weapons. Several were desperately trying to load man-portable mortars and bazookas with their shells before hurriedly launching them at the assembled Decepticons. One of the shells landed on Megatron's left shoulder, peppering his face with shrapnel and smoke. No damage was done, but the act was more than enough. "This is becoming annoying. They're more basic a lifeform than a minicon, yet they continue to harrass us, and try our patience." 

"Can we terminate them?" Starscream asked with a smirk. 

For the moment, Megatron ignored Starscream's request. His lieutenant's thirst for the fuels pumping in the lives of the aliens was a little disturbing, but it was something Megatron had come to live with since he had recovered Starscream from a Judicator ambush in Praxis. Starscream had moments of brilliance, and was a great commander and able to motivate his troops, but the occasional bout of sadism he displayed suggested there were perhaps deeper problems with Starscream than Megatron had suspected. But his train of thought was re-directed as an anti-aircraft cannon was turned, and the barrels depressed enough to be able to catch Megatron in it's line of fire. Bullets spanged and sparked off Megatron's chest, jerking him about like a puppet with cut strings until he got over his surprise, and shifted his weight against the explosive shells. "Pathetic," he growled, while liftnig his fusion cannon, and dialling back the pwoer output, letting loose a burst of energy that caused the static gun to explode, flinging shrapnel through nearby soldiers. 

Sergeant Glover tossed a quick glance over at the ruined AA gun. There wasn't anything recognisable left of the weapon, even less remained of the crew that had only moments ago been people he knew and worked and lived with. But for the moment, he didn't have time to worry about the lack of remains. Now, Glover had others to worry about. With a quick practised hand and eye, he directed his armed green recruits into various positions behind cover. Once he was sure his men were doing as he did, and not trying to rush headlong into the strange bright weapons fire the machines were throwing out at everyone that were firing from exposed positions, did Glover pop his head up to take a good look at the attackers. 

His blood ran cold. "Oh God no, no, not -" His words were muffled as a building nearby turned into splinters and smoke. 

Glover quickly returned his attention to his men. "Stay in cover!" he howled above the din, "These Japanese things have better guns than us! Heavy artillery is on the way!" 

As if by magic, there was a heavy roar from a hundred metres away, and a tank smashed through a wooden fence, the soldiers sheltering near the fence bolting for their lives as others also smashed through. Although they hesitated for a scant moment, the gunners in the tanks knew their jobs, and spat large-calibre death at the stationary Decepticons. 

Thundercracker took three hits at once, twice in his left leg with the third shot striking just above, on his hip. He staggered back with the force of the shot, and when the smoke cleared, he had several clear dents. Skywarp reacted a little faster to the shot directed at her face, and deflected it with her foerarm. She too fell backwards from the shot, but other than a circular dent on her forearm, she sustained no physical damage - just to her ego. 

"Perhaps these locals aren't _all_ as weak as minicons," Starscream suggested to Megatron. 

A scant moment later, Megatron also stumbled from two shells slamming into him, but his armour was stronger than the fliers, and for the moment held without issue. Starscream took the attack on his leader as a signal, and returned fire. Two of the tanks erupted moments after being peppered with stutterlaser fier, a third took a missile strike and cratered the ground around it with the force of the explosion. The organic components, Starscream noted, seemed to be moving away from the fire, possibly under their own volition... 

"Regroup and return fire!" Megatron bellowed, as his troops had started to break up into singular entities. Yes, Megatron didn't think these locals posed much of a threat to his forces, but likewise he wasn't going to risk losing anyone else, and having his forces split and unable to help each other was a good way for that to happen fast. 

With Megatron leading the order of battle, directing his Decepticons to attack certain points or locations, the fight ended quickly in a loss for the local machines. None had attempted surrender, Megatron reflected, they had all fought to and beyond the brink of termination. His sensors picked up tell-tale signs of other life forms starting up from slumber modes, and he decided this had to end before they expended too much fuel. "Soundwave, locate the energon tanks and bring them back to me." 

"Yes, Megatron," Soundwave nodded before striding to a nearby building. It was large, and relatively untouched by weaponsfire from the Decepticons, and even the locals had tried to move the fight away from it. With a single punch, Soundwave penetrated the exterior shell, then proceeded inside. 

The building was dark. While Soundwave detected several lighting elements that were warm, and presumably recently engaged and active, they were now switched off. Electromagnetic fields in the building suggested there was a good deal of wiring and machinery in these rooms, but for the moment all Soundwave was interested in was the radioactive petrochemical in a nearby series of tanks. He judged the material in them - it was polluted, a fuel that wouldn't have the same effect on the Cybertronians and would also create some internal damage which could be alleviated with regular maintenance, but it was energon and it was usable. He grabbed the nearest tank, and moving gently so as not to damage the integrity of the storage unit he broke the connection between the floor and tank, and carefully hoisted the tank onto his back before retracing his steps through the building to the exit. 

Before he could step through the hole to the outside, noises alerted him to something behind him. Mechanical noises. Almost like a Cybertronian... had the Autobots arrived? Before he could confirm those suspicions, he saw a number of the local machines with organic components, making the sounds of ammunition being loaded into firing chambers. With a tank full of energon on his back, he couldn't turn to face the suspected Cybertronian behind him, and instead faced the locals. Whomever the Cybertronian was, they hadn't fired on him yet, so they were no immediate threat. 

"All right, you girls, **let him have it!**" Sergeant Glover yelled. The machine carrying the fuel tank on its back loomed over him, then glanced at the big whitish-silver machine and gave a weird buzzing sound that lasted approximately five seconds. 

"Interesting, Megatron. I believe the life on this world has developed in symbiosis with an organic life form. It is something I have never come across be-" 

Megatron cut through the discussion. "There will be time to discuss and conduct research later. For now, our goal is the energon supply. Once we have that safe, we can then look forward at our next point of strategy." 

"Understood, Megatron," Soundwave replied, sounding slightly crushed. Megatron would make it up to the scientist later, but for now, the storage tank on his back was more important, and additionally, they were still in a firefight, even if only in a lull. Soundwave brought internal weapons to bear, and began methodically picking off the troops before him with the highest threat indicators. 

Glover scattered his men, and although half of those who had survived the initial blasts were killed, Glover's remaining troops holed up out of sight behind a nearby administration block. For the moment, the machines were only standing still, holding their position in the parade ground, but that could change. And indeed, Glover could hear the sounds of more tanks approaching. 

A **lot** more tanks. 

But then, there was something else. The fence opposite Glover and the machines was knocked over, but this time not by tanks, but by a motley collection of civilian and military vehicles. Interestingly, one of the vehicles, a yellow and black striped Volkswagon, was very obviously a German car. Even more interestingly, none of the vehicles had drivers, but did not look to be out of control. 

Indeed, the already-present machines were turning and reacting, with what appeared to be surprise. 

"Megatron!" Optimus Major declared, a slight waver in his voice. "Return that fuel to whom it belongs!" 

"Optimus Major!" Megatron replied, "I thought you would not have the _courage_ to face me again, after our last battle!" 

_Neither did I,_ thought Optimus. But aloud, he continued. "This planet shall not fall prey to Decepticon rapaciousness. Return that energon to its storage facility, and return to Ark Secondus where you shall be held under arrest until such time as we can return to Cybertron." 

Silence on the battlefield. The Decepticons looked at each other, first uncertainly, then disbelievingly, and then began laughing. The Autobots behind Optimus transformed into their main configurations. Brawn clapped a hand over his face. 

"Please _please_ tell me he didn't just say what I thought he said," Brawn moaned quietly. 

"He'll learn," Prowl replied, "all Majors do." 

"Now **ain't** the time to be _learnin'_," Brawn grumbled. "This is the time to be _doin'_" 

"Surely, you aren't serious," Megatron said, the ghost of a smile around his lips. After a few moments, his smile stalled. "You **are** serious. Nnnngh, you have so much to learn." Megatron took in the troops behind Optimus, now in their robot forms. "I do not see Grimlock at all." Megatron paused for a moment. "I respected him as a warrior. He could have taught you much about being a leader. For now, I suppose, that duty falls more to me now than before." 

"Then we have no choice," Optimus answered after a moment's hestitation. He transformed, and looked behind him at his troops. "Autobots tr- oh." For a moment he was dumbfounded to find his troops already in their standard modes. 

However, Megatron saw the opening, and decided to take it. "Decepticons! Attack!" And he leapt into the fray. 

_TO BE CONTINUED..._


End file.
